Destry didn't verbalize his response. He simply nodded his head,
still atop hers; and let her continue.

"I yelled at her for nothing. All she wanted was a cookie,
and I couldn't even stop for a second to help her, so she did it
herself. She fell Des. She could have been seriously injured. We're
so lucky."

"Yes we are," Destry agreed, "But don't stress
yourself out too much. It's not good for the baby. Kids are made to
be resilient, because things like that happen to them all the time.
Remember all the times we would fall off counters and fences and
things like that? Remember when Junior was just a baby, and I got up
to answer the phone? In that split second, she rolled herself off the
couch. I thought for sure she'd die, but she's still here with us,
and she's completely fine." Destry kissed Lucy's forehead and
wiped the trail of tears from her eyes and cheeks, "Come sit
down Sweety; tell me about your Dad."

He steered Lucy to the couch and helped her sit down. He cradled
her carefully in his arms as she let out all her worries and fears.

Six years ago, Lucy had been so certain of her future. It included
a career and a husband by her side, with Destry and his wife living
next door to them, though those details had always been rather vague
and fuzzy in her mind. It had included her first baby around the age
of twenty-two, with a loving grandmother and grandfather joyfully
blessing it with treats, gifts, and virtuous wisdom at every turn. It
had involved her father, a major part of her life, to be always there
whenever she needed him; bestowing love, and never looking down.
Never reacting with anything but praise, in fact. Hannah had never
really factored in to Lucy's dream of the future. But then, Lucy
always expected Hannah would be off; leading her own great life,
running around on grand, fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants style
adventures in far off countries and glamorous cities.

Lucy wondered if she had held Hannah back, with an obligation to
stick around and be supportive, as the only member of Lucy's family
who truly cared or understood. True, her little sister seemed
completely happy with her life; studying the arts in college and
living the high life of boys and best friends. But if Lucy had held
her back in any way; tied her down to the ground, she could never
forgive herself. It had been obvious ever since they were tiny
children that Hannah was a bird, destined to fly and be great, while
Lucy was a dog; faithful and destined to roam the familiar. Being a
dog had been fine for Lucy, but it wasn't for Hannah.

And as for her father, Lucy had yearned every day since she'd
left, for what she had left behind in their relationship. She had
gone through life, always knowing what to do and what to say to keep
him happy. It was the reason she'd always been Daddy's Little Girl.
She had found freedom in the cutting of those ties, but she'd also
lost the part of her that had always been confident she could mean
something to the world. True, she had Destry to tell her everything
she wanted and needed to hear, and Destry never lied, and rarely was
he wrong; especially about her, but he was blinded by his love and
infatuation with her. He thought she could do anything, simply
because he loved her. Her father had been impartial. She had loved
her father dearly, and she had wanted to connect with him on numerous
accounts, but it was never the right time. He was too angry. He held
a grudge for too long. And now he was dying. Lucy would never get to
speak to him before he died, and that's what hurt the most. She
wanted to apologize. She wanted him to apologize. She wanted to be
free from his scorn and betrayal. She wanted to be somebody again in
his eyes. She wanted it all, and it was being fiercely yanked away
from her.

She sobbed this all out on Destry shoulder, clutching the bottom
hem of his shirt as a lifeline, and not even wondering anymore how he
could just sit there and let her tears and snot drip all over his
favorite clothes. He felt her pain with her. She sobbed until she
fell asleep, when her eyes closed and the disturbing dreams she could
never remember took over.

Destry sat, staring off in to the slowly-coming darkness, thinking
about life and all its emotional twists and turns, when the phone
rang nearby. His body jerked in surprise at the noise, and he quickly
reached out to answer it, before Lucy woke up.

"Hello?" He questioned thickly, his voice not been used
for a few hours.

"Hey, Dessie," Hannah's voice rang through the cords,
cheerful and upbeat. Didn't she know about her father, or was she
pretending like nothing was wrong, in case he hadn't heard the news?

"Hi Hannah," Destry chose to keep his voice upbeat as
well, as if he knew nothing. he had no inclination to re-hash the
thing at the moment. Pius, if Hannah didn't know yet, he didn't want
to be the one to tell her, "What's up?"

"Are you guy's still having trouble with naming The Fetus?"

"I wish you'd stop calling it The Fetus."

"Well, that's what it is, until it has a name. So are you or
aren't you?"

"We are. Why? You have something good?"

"Sure do, buddy-roo!"

"How much caffeine have you had today, Han?"

"A lot. A girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do Dessie. Late
nights socializing, and long term papers to finish don't mix!"

"What's the name, Hannah?" Destry hid his chuckle. The
younger O'Neil sister was insatiable. He was glad he had Lucy.

"Please pick my idea."

"Well, you have to tell me first. I'll tell Lu when she wakes
up, then we'll decide."

"Oh, she's asleep?"

"Yes, Hannah. What's the name?" Destry's
patience was wearing thin. He was usually better at putting up with
Hannah than Lucy was, but today all of his wife's angst and pain had
worn off on him, and he had no tolerance for the younger girl's
bubbliness.